


Mourning

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Caitlin told herself she's gone through the five stages of grief.





	Mourning

You tell yourself you’ve gone through the five stages of grief: Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

But the truth is you’re still stuck on the first. 

You tell yourself there is nothing quite as awful as what you’ve already gone through. That you are tough as nails, built on emotional stamina, and will pick yourself up off the floor. You keep your mind busy, your hands too.

You smile and laugh when you’re supposed to, and people believe that you are fine. 

But there is nothing like the searing loss of losing a partner.

The wound in your side still bleeds. It bleeds and you try to stitch it up every time it opens because that’s what you do. But somehow the pain is still fresh and then the tears come rolling, and you’re gasping while gritting your teeth in a quiet agony. 

This loss is different. It sneaks up on you, catches in lonely corners. Creeps in with a haunting thought in the back of your mind. You wish it away, you want it gone.

But there it sits, lurking, waiting. And its voice is_ her_ voice. 

Cisco is there sitting beside you with his rolled up sleeves and his whiteboard marker fiddled between his two fingers doing math. He’s quick with numbers, and doesn’t need a calculator, but likes to write out equations so he can see them concrete, and not just floating around with all his thousands of other ideas in his head. Endearing as always, the cap sits between his teeth, and he hums around it. You try not to stare. 

The new suit fits like a glove and you do not have the heart to confess you hate it. It is flawless and beautiful, catered to your every proportion. It has hidden pockets and reinforcements everywhere it needs to, and is in your favourite shade of blue. The emblem in the middle is like a long star, silver, contrasting, bright. It’s the showstopper, what makes people stop and look.

But there are so many things people don’t see.

They don’t see your struggle every day. The fight you have with yourself to watch your own back. To not rely on the ones you're so used to always being there.

You hate it because every thread, every stitching was mended by his clever hands. And now it feels like he’s all over your skin. He’s up your arms and legs and around your middle. And it’s so sweet, so caring, so perfect. 

But it was his goodbye, and now you’re stuck wearing it. You have to look at it and relive the moment everyday. 

It’s silly. You know it’s silly. 

“What do you think?” he asks, now. He squints at their own plans like they might not work. Like anything Cisco has ever thought up hasn’t worked. 

Things Cisco thinks up sometimes don’t work. Only when he’s not confident in them. Usually when you're not there to reassure it’s fine. Cisco’s self doubt has never been so perplexing. 

You blink once, slow. He’s expectantly waiting for your answer. 

“It’ll work,” you say. You meet his eyes and he grins at you. 

It’s silly to think of him like he’s gone when he’s right there. 

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wrote this as a writing exercise, which turned out nicely. I do think she's secretly pining.


End file.
